


Keep Your Hands Off The Waitress

by wallflow3r



Series: Fever Dreams [3]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Diners, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Daryl Dixon's rough and precise man hands, Daryl can't control his dick, Emotionally Horny, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protectiveness, Referenced Suicide Attempt, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Tension, Someone's got to make the first move, blushing like it's an Olympic sport, finger banging, post-fuck fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:02:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21514984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wallflow3r/pseuds/wallflow3r
Summary: It's going to be a long night for Beth Greene if she can't keep her mind, and her eyes, off her co-worker, Daryl Dixon. But when boundaries are crossed, she isn't the only one in the diner who's getting riled up.
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Beth Greene
Series: Fever Dreams [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1475591
Comments: 143
Kudos: 348





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Fic inspired by [this giftset](https://carolinepages.tumblr.com/post/109342593535/bethyl-diner-au).
> 
> This was supposed to be a one shot, but here we are ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

_Keep your hands off the waitress_

Beth's eyes absently trace the letters on the sign hanging in front of her face. The diner is full of these fake little antique signs, with their equally dated little catchphrases. Gives the place a _kitsch_ vibe, she supposes. A bit like her tailored uniform with the oversized collar and pleated skirt. But hey, at least the baby blue brings out her eyes. 

Stifling a yawn against the back of her hand, she starts to make a fresh pot of coffee. It’s become something of a habit, making a fresh pot when she comes on shift, has a habit of making it extra strong too, knowing full well that nobody visiting a diner past ten in the evening is going to mind it. 

She’d be lying if she didn’t admit that the strength of the coffee correlates directly to her own energy levels. So, after an evening of reading textbooks until the words started dancing on the page, and with an eight hour shift still ahead of her, Beth is making coffee strong enough to raise the dead.

At some point in the coffee making process, she‘d started singing along to the radio without realising. She strongly suspects the clunky old thing may well be older than she is, but it still works and she’s grown fond of the way the busted speakers add a layer of distortion over the music.

Squeezing her tired eyes together and turning away from the rhythmic dripping of the coffee as it brews, Beth peels her lids open to find a piercing blue gaze watching her from behind a curtain of hair. 

(Hair that probably should be in a hairnet to meet health and safety regulations, but hell if she’s going to be the one to tell _this_ fry cook what to do.) 

Her eyes slide into focus as they lock with his and the half remembered lyrics die on her tongue. Even after working with Daryl for six months, the intensity of his gaze never fails to make her stomach lurch. 

His penetrating stare lingers long enough for Beth’s cheeks to start to feel warm before he pulls it away as he turns, heaving a box towards the storeroom, thick corded muscles straining against his black t-shirt as he does so. 

“Keep singin’,” He throws over his shoulder, his gravelly voice scratching down Beth’s spine. 

Her gaze lingers too, following him as he travels the short distance into the kitchen and out of sight. 

And she does, picking up the tune halfway through the next line and singing softly under her breath as she turns to the counter, hiding a smile in the collar of her uniform. 

She’s been working at the diner for ever since high school finished and her friends went away to college. Ever since her friends away went to college and Beth notably _did not._

She missed a lot of school after her mom died, missed even more after she took a blade to her wrist in a moment of desperation. After missing so much of her senior year, she didn't have enough credits to graduate, and as a result isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. 

Not that her daddy or her fiercely protective big sister would let her out of their sight even if she _could_ go away to college. Which she isn’t sure she wants to do anymore. She isn’t sure of much these days. It all feels kind of _pointless._

Her daddy insisted she enroll at the community college and make up the classes she flunked. So, not wanting to disappoint him any further, that’s what she did. Like it or not, her classes keep her pretty busy when she’s not helping out at home on the farm. 

But three nights a week Beth works at the diner in town.

She secretly loves working the graveyard shift. She knows that working nights is playing havoc with her body clock, but she'll take the scattered sleep patterns just to be doing one thing that _she's_ chosen. 

There are plenty of perks to working nights. Less customers, more time to study. It leaves her plenty of time in the day to attend classes, run errands and help out around the farm. 

And then there's Daryl, who she shares all of her shifts with, and the real reason she looks forward to coming to work if she's being honest with herself (which she decidedly is not).

Daryl Dixon is like nobody she's ever met before. 

On the surface of it, he’s got to be maybe twice her age and looks like he could easily kill a man with his bare hands. Redneck biker type, all muscle and rough edges. But then there’s this shyness, this sort of awkwardness, in the way that he carries that huge frame of his with his head bowed and shoulders hunched, that makes him appear younger than her somehow.

Sometimes she thinks he looks a little bit lost, and that maybe that’s something they have in common. That maybe that’s something they could help each other with.

That maybe they’re not so different underneath their outward appearances. And that maybe she’s not so totally, completely and painfully _alone_ in how she feels. 

That’s a whole lot of maybe, but Beth finds the possibility comforting. 

And then there’s the fact that Daryl is just downright beautiful to look at.

He’s got the broadest shoulders and the bluest eyes she’s ever seen. So, Beth thinks she really can’t be held responsible for staring, which she has a tendency to do _a lot._ But she can’t help it, her eyes are like magnets when he’s around. If he’s noticed then he hasn’t let on, and she really hopes he hasn’t, but maybe he’s just used to girls drooling over him. 

The thing is, Beth could swear sometimes she catches him staring at her too.

He didn't talk to her a whole lot at first. It was about a week before he did more than grunt in her general direction. Two before he made eye contact. A month before they had anything resembling a conversation.

Beth was busy sweeping up the third coffee cup she’d dropped that evening and wondering if she was going to have a paycheck left at the end of her shift when Daryl had appeared in front of her and cut through her thoughts.

“You eat today?” He’d grunted. 

She hadn’t. Often forgot to eat back then.

“I’m fine,” She’d lied. 

He watched her dump the ceramic shards in the trash, looking entirely unconvinced. 

“Want me t’ make you somethin’?” He offered, skeptical gaze holding her in place. 

“Really, I’m fine,” She’d repeated, adding, “You shouldn’t go to any trouble, not on my account,” for good measure. 

Beth was getting tired of always being a bother to everyone around her. 

Daryl had narrowed his eyes at her, but said nothing and disappeared into the back, only to come back ten minutes later with a grilled cheese sandwich. 

As soon as the smell hit her nostrils her stomach rumbled loudly and she’d felt a blush run up her neck to her ears. He just put the plate down in front of her and leaned himself against the counter. 

She couldn’t help the satisfied moan that came out of her when she took a huge bite.

Daryl had turned away, scratching the underside of his jaw as his ears turned pink. 

Nothing before or since has ever tasted as good as Daryl Dixon's ability to see right through her. 

She was not in fact fine. She was very far from fine, and he wasn't judging her or anything, he didn't want to _talk_ about it (Thank God), he just wanted to fix it and help her get a little closer to actually being fine.

Maybe so she wouldn't break every cup and plate in the diner, but she suspected there was more to it than that. She suspected - and now knows - that Daryl Dixon is a whole lot nicer than anyone gives him credit for (including Daryl Dixon himself).

Nights at the diner with Daryl started to feel like her safe place after that. A little respite from trying to convince everyone that _she’s okay now_ , trying so hard to be her old cheerful self to the point of exhaustion. Daryl didn’t know her from before so she doesn’t have to pretend with him. She can just _exist,_ be whoever she is now, _after_ , and it feels comfortable. It feels _easy,_ like a weight’s been lifted off her chest and she can finally breathe _._

The grilled cheese sandwiches (and the blushing) soon became a habit. They sit and eat together sometime in the early hours when there aren’t any customers. Most of the time they just sit in silence, with Beth catching up on her reading for school, but it’s a comfortable kind of silence. It’s nice to be able to be quiet without having someone asking what’s wrong, a luxury Beth is no longer afforded at home, which is her own damn fault she knows, but still. As weird as it sounds, it’s really nice to have someone to _not talk_ with. 

Not long after that, Daryl started to drive her home at the end of their shift, ever since he caught her waiting for the bus one morning. He says it's on his way, but she knows it isn't because the trailer park is on the other side of town. Their drives are mostly quiet too, except for the sound of the radio when she asks him if she can turn it on and tunes it to her favourite country station. He pulls a face but doesn't say anything, so she doesn't think he really minds it.

It's a small town so most of the night it's just the two of them and Beth likes it that way. She likes the quiet and she likes Daryl. She likes him a little _too much_ in truth. 

Ever since her mom died, Beth feels like she's been sleepwalking through life. It's as though someone turned the volume down on everything, all the bad and all the good too, until it became a murmur, until it became just background noise. 

But here's the thing: when she's around Daryl she doesn't feel so numb. Something about him wakes her up. He just has to look at her and all of a sudden her heart is racing in her ears and there are butterflies in her stomach. Sometimes she feels a little dizzy from all the blood rushing to her face. And honestly? It feels good to feel giddy and excited like a regular teenager. It feels really good to feel _anything at all_ in fact.

It's silly, she supposes, to get as carried away as she does. 

But what’s the harm in having a little crush anyway? 

That’s what Beth tells herself when her head finally hits the pillow in the morning and she thinks about his blue eyes and his broad shoulders. That’s what she tells herself when she thinks about his big hands and his stubbled jaw as she touches herself. _It’s just a little crush,_ she insists every time she comes, shuddering, with his whispered name on her lips.

Ok, so maybe it’s more than just a _little_ crush. 

She’s so distracted filling the counter with fresh donuts that Beth doesn’t realise Daryl is behind her until she feels the heat of his palm through her uniform as his hand spans the small of her back.

She lets out an involuntary sound caught somewhere between a gasp and a moan as her head spins around. His eyes drop down to catch hers and a hot flush spreads across her cheeks. He looks confused, maybe even concerned, _at first,_ and then something else flickers across his hot blue eyes, like clouds blowing across a sky. Something that makes Beth feel a little hot under the collar and a little damp between her thighs. Something that, for just a moment, makes Beth wonder if there isn’t something going on here with more than just her. 

His thick fingers twitch where they remain against the small of her back, curling into the rough fabric of her uniform and dragging it across her skin, dragging another involuntary little sound out of her with it. This time it's more of a hum, a soft moan of encouragement, and she watches Daryl's Adam's apple bob in the centre of his throat as he swallows thickly in response. 

That’s when Beth sees the box on his shoulder and realises that his hand is on the small of her back in an attempt to nudge her out of the way so that he can get past.

Her eyes widen and her cheeks flare. With embarrassment, mostly, but that’s not the only reason there’s a flush running from her hairline to her collarbones. 

“ _Oh_ ,” She starts suddenly, moving out of his path and away from his hand, instantly missing the heat of his palm. “Gosh, I’m sorry, Daryl.” 

He doesn’t move, just stares at her for a moment, and she feels her cheeks, _and her clit,_ fill with blood as the silence stretches tight between them.

“S’alright,” He rasps, finally, in a voice so low and so throaty that she scarcely holds back a shudder as he passes her.

Beth sucks in a breath as she watches him disappear into the storeroom and brings her hands up to cover her face once he’s safely out of sight. 

_Get a grip, Beth._ She thinks, exhaling hard into her palms. 

It's one thing to think about Daryl _like that_ when she's at home by herself, but to do it at the diner when he's _right there_? Yeah, that's a new and alarming development. 

The next hour passes without incident. No furious blushing or inappropriate sexual fantasies, _thankyouverymuch._

Daryl’s brother, Merle, comes in to grab a bite to eat before heading out to find a bar and “catch some tail”. 

At that declaration, Daryl leans over the counter to whack him on the back of the head. 

“Mind your damn manners,” He mutters, jerking his head towards Beth.

She giggles when Merle responds by rolling his eyes at her so hard they disappear into the hard lines of his forehead.

“Reckon you’d lose that stick up your ass if you did th’ same once in a while, baby brother,” Merle drawls, leaning back in his chair and giving Daryl a look caught somewhere between pity and disappointment. 

Daryl scoffs and looks away. 

"Am I wrong?" Merle asks, turning to Beth for support, "Beth, sweetheart, don’t you think my brother here ought to get laid ‘fore he has an aneurysm or somethin’?” 

Beth laughs nervously as her stomach drops out through the balls of her feet. She wonders if it shows on her face how much she does in fact think that Daryl _ought to get laid_ and hopes to God her face isn’t turning red at just how much thought she’s given to the subject. Her eyes swing over to Daryl whose cheeks suddenly look a little rosier beneath his stubble.

“Shut the fuck up and get out of here,” Daryl barks, making his brother hoot with laughter.

“Now who needs to mind their manners?” Merle croons, shaking his head and puffing his cheeks at Beth in mock disapproval, “That ain’t no way to talk in front of a lady.” 

Beth covers her mouth with her hand, trying not to laugh as Daryl glares at his brother, and Merle only grins back harder. 

It's no use. The sight of Daryl's glowering face has Beth laughing so hard her shoulders shake and her eyes start to water.

Daryl huffs and shakes his head from side to side, but she sees the corner of his mouth twitch.

He gives her a side glance and she doesn’t miss the way his lips quirk. 

Her breath hitches when their eyes connect, and the curve on his lips grows into an actual smile. 

" _Right_ ," Merle announces, slapping his hands down on the table and dragging their attention back to him, "Time for ol' Merle to go get some-"

" _Merle!"_

Daryl looks about ready to jump over the counter and throttle him.

“Alright, alright,” Merle concedes, holding his hands up in surrender and throwing Beth a wink. 

She smiles back at him, “Have a good time.” 

“Oh, don’ you worry, I will,” He says as he pulls his jacket on, “An’ I won’t be the only one, some lucky gal out there is about to get f-”

“ _Son of a bitch,”_ Daryl grunts, slamming a palm down on the table as though he is in fact going to vault over it and take a swing at his brother. 

Merle chuckles as he tucks his chair in. 

“Language, baby brother,” He teases, wagging his finger at the younger Dixon. 

Daryl’s eyes narrow into icy slits that follow his brother across the diner to the front door.

“See what I mean? He’s too damn tense!” Merle hollers at Beth as he pulls the door open with a jangle.

“S’because he _needs to get laid,_ ” He shouts, loud enough for every customer in the diner to hear and turn their heads, before he disappears out of the door and yanks it closed behind him.

Beth’s wide eyes glance around the room at the regulars who are now all staring at Daryl with their heads curiously cocked as they silently consider the frequency of his sex life. Not wanting to join the peanut gallery, she sneaks a look at him through the corner of her eye. His hands are clenched into tight fists and Beth might worry about the prospect of him _actually_ having an aneurysm if she wasn’t thoroughly distracted by the tension in his arms. 

Beth’s eager eyes are just following the curve of his bicep as it disappears under his t-shirt when Daryl makes a sound that can only be described as a _growl_ before he turns and stomps his way into the kitchen muttering a string of obscenities under his breath.

The diner is left in silence except for the background murmur of the radio. 

Swallowing hard and finding her mouth suddenly dry, Beth grabs the coffee pot and turns to the counter. 

“Anyone need more coffee?” She asks brightly over the sound of pans being punched in the kitchen. 

The diner soon empties out and Beth contents herself with making another pot of coffee and humming along to the radio in a daze. She turns her head to the side to hide a yawn in her collar and catches Daryl watching her. Her eyes take in the dish towel thrown over his shoulder and bulging arms folded over his solid chest. A chest she'd very much like to press her palms against, preferably while riding his cock. Beth's cheeks burn as she turns her face quickly back to the machine. 

_Oh Sweet Jesus._

She’s never thought about anyone this way before in her entire life, but now she can't even _look_ at him without getting all riled up. What's gotten into her? 

_Well, not Daryl Dixon, unfortunately._

"We keepin you up?" Daryl's rasp tickles the back of her neck even from three feet away.

 _I wish you would,_ she thinks, feeling a sudden pang between her legs. She imagines those big, tanned hands grabbing her by the hips and lifting her up as she parts her thighs to let him step between them and-

"Beth?"

Turning to face him, Beth forces herself to roll her eyes as she wills away her flushed cheeks. Her mouth pulls up into a smile when she sees his lips quirk.

He likes to tease her and she likes it too, likes this more relaxed side of him she’s starting to see. Beth often wonders if he teases the other waitresses. She's never seen him do it so she thinks (more like _hopes_ ) that maybe it's just _their_ thing. But maybe she just wants to feel special in his eyes somehow.

"Reckon you need t' pour y'self a big cup a that coffee or you ain't gonna be any use t' me tonight," He smirks, raising his chin at the coffee pot held loosely in her hand.

God, how she'd like to be _of use_ to Daryl Dixon, Beth thinks, cheeks flaring like she's been slapped as she drops her gaze to avoid his. 

_Goddamn it._ It’s not decent, having these thoughts about him, especially not while he’s _right there_ . She knows that, God, she knows, and she’s pretty sure she’s going to hell, but she can’t seem to stop having these thoughts, _especially_ when he’s right there. 

Her fingers tighten around the handle as her mind is filled with thoughts of his smirking lips finding her throat, of her fingers curling around his arms as he sucks kisses down her sensitive neck. 

She touched his arm _once,_ just to get his attention, felt the solid muscle under his hot skin and she thinks about that every time she pushes her fingers inside herself at night, thinks of it now, of wrapping her hands around his biceps for purchase and climbing him like a tree, of-

Beth's thoughts - and respiratory functions - are interrupted by a rough palm curling around her elbow. 

She looks down to see Daryl's tanned fingers dark against her pale skin. Her eyes fly up to find his squinting back at her in question.

"Y'alright?" He asks quietly, voice taking on a softness that sets off an ache in her chest. Not her pussy this time, her _chest,_ and that's when she knows she's really in trouble. 

"Yeah, um, I'm fine, sorry, Daryl," She stammers back at him, smiling a little too widely as she tries to cover the fact that his touch has rendered her a mess. 

She wonders if he has any idea of the effect he’s having on her, or does he just think she’s some kind of bumbling idiot? Beth isn’t sure which is worse. 

_If he only knew,_ She thinks, cheeks tingling as her blush deepens. _If he knew how I thought about him, what would he think? What would he do?_ There’s a flurry of something like frantic excitement in her stomach because _maybe if he knew, he wouldn’t mind. Maybe he would like her thinking about him like that._ There’s that _possibility_ again, dragging her deeper still. 

Daryl's eyebrows knit together. The fingers still curled around her elbow, busy transferring enough heat to make sweat form on her brow, curl a little tighter. His lips part around a question and Beth pulls her own bottom lip into her mouth as she drops her gaze and wonders what those lips would feel like on hers.

Would they be rough like his hands, or soft, as they moved against hers? Would he take her mouth fiercely like he devours his food at three AM, or tenderly, the way his tongue comes out to wet his bottom lip when he's concentrating hard on something? 

His lips, still a mystery to her, close suddenly as the front door opens, striking a bell that cuts through the room and announces a customer's arrival. 

Beth turns on her heel, wiping her hot palms down on her apron and smiles as she steps up to the counter. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone doesn't keep their hands off the waitress, someone isn't standing for it, and someone is wondering what that means.

The door rattles shut behind Rick and Shane, the sheriff deputy and his partner. It’s close to midnight, which tells Beth they’re on the late shift tonight and are making their usual pitstop for coffee and pie. 

Rick has known Beth since she was a little girl: he watched her grow up, was there when her mom died and her dad wobbled on his sobriety. He’s like family. Beth’s smile becomes a little more genuine when she sees him walk through the door. 

Shane, on the other hand, makes her a little nervous. 

There's something about the way he looks at her; the way his eyes wander, it’s as though they have a way of slipping under her uniform like a physical touch. The unwanted kind that makes her wrap her arms around herself instinctively. 

She watches Daryl’s jaw harden when he clocks Shane follow Rick into the diner and tries not to get distracted by the way his cheekbones look sharp enough to cut glass when he works his jaw like that. 

He doesn’t even look up when she steps past him to go take their order, just keeps his eyes trained on the other side of the room.

Daryl doesn’t like Shane, that much is abundantly clear. Beth doesn’t know why _exactly,_ he’s never said anything, but he’s not much of a talker to begin with. All she knows is that the atmosphere changes when Shane comes in, becomes palpably tenser. He doesn’t disappear out back though, like he does when Merle is getting on his last nerve. He stays out front and watches like a hawk, his face set in a scowl that reminds her of his brother. 

Beth smiles as she steps up to their table and sets down two coffee cups.

“Evenin’ officers. How y’all doin’ tonight?” She asks, filling the cups automatically and not pulling her notepad out from behind her apron because they always order the same thing. 

Rick looks up at her and smiles, but uncharacteristically it doesn’t reach his eyes. He looks faintly irritated and Beth feels her own smile falter.

“Maybe you can give us a _woman’s_ perspective,” Shane starts, and when Beth looks over and sees him leaning back in his chair with a smirk tugging at his mouth, she thinks she’s found the source of Rick’s irritation. 

“When a guy takes a girl out for a good time, somethin’ real special like say an _anniversary_...” Shane says, leaning on his elbow towards her, getting a little closer than she’s entirely comfortable with, but she resists the urge to step back. 

Beth hears the irritation in Rick’s huffed exhale at the unnecessary but telling detail in Shane’s anecdote. Seemingly oblivious, or just not caring that he’s pissing Rick off, Shane continues.

“If he pulls out all the stops, you know, red roses, dinner, dancin', _the works,_ at the end of the night she’s supposed to show him _a good time_ , right? That’s the expectation, ain’t it?” Shane turns back to Rick, hands gesturing like his partner is failing to understand something painfully simple. 

As Beth listens to the not particularly pleasant or subtle implication in Shane’s pointed _conundrum_ , she wonders how in the hell she is being asked for the second time tonight whether someone ought to be getting laid. 

Her brow creases and her mouth pulls to the side as she contemplates whether she’d get fired for telling Shane he’s a sexist ass, since he’s a regular customer and she’s a serial breaker of cups.

“You don't have to answer that,” Rick cuts in, holding his hand up and glaring daggers at Shane across the table.

“Aw c'mon, she don't mind,” Shane rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to Beth, “You don't mind, do ya? I bet a pretty girl like you goes out on a lot of dates.”

Beth's mouth makes a straight line. There’s an _implication_ there and she's pretty sure it isn't quite the compliment he thinks it is. 

“All I’m sayin’ is this: if she ain't puttin' out she ain't playin' fair. There’s an _understandin’_ , an’ girls know that too,” Shane is talking to Rick again but gesturing to Beth, who is now representing all women, it would seem. 

“A relationship isn't a game, you don’t need a _strategy_ ,” Rick huffs, sounding more than a little exasperated. Beth can’t help the little smile that works its way across her face at that.

A humourless laugh turns Beth’s head back to the other side of the table.

“An' that's why you're gettin' played not laid,” Shane mutters under his breath, but still plenty loud enough for Beth to hear.

"We'll have two slices of pie, same as we always do, thank you," Rick says quickly, giving Beth a nod that not only allows but encourages her to go. 

_Oh, thank God._

Beth smiles back at him gratefully as he only manages to meet her eyes for an awkward second before giving Shane a hard look. 

"Comin' right up," She says with a little nod as she spins on her heel to get the hell out of there. 

"Wait jus’ a minute now,” Shane objects. 

Beth hears the screech of chair legs and feels a hand wrap around her elbow. It’s in the same place that Daryl touched her just moments ago, but this touch is nothing like his. The fingers pressing into her skin are hard and demanding, holding her in a bruising grip she can't get out of.

Her stomach lurches as she’s jerked backwards, and her head spins to stare at where Shane’s hand is clamped around her arm like a bear trap. 

There’s a beat and then a familiar heat is at her back and Daryl's arm appears in front of her. She watches almost in slow motion as his hand comes forward to slam into Shane's shoulder, right above his badge, forcing him backwards and away from her. 

Suddenly everything speeds up as Shane lets her go, fingers loosening as his jaw tightens and he scrambles for purchase on the table. 

Without even realising, Beth finds that she’s taken a step backwards into the solid warmth of Daryl’s chest. 

In front of her, Shane is now on his feet, and he looks absolutely _murderous._

"You lost your damn mind, redneck?" Shane yells as he squares up to Daryl, face turning deep red.

"You don't grab women like that, asshole," Daryl answers in what can only be described as a _growl_ , as he steps in front of Beth, putting himself between her and Shane.

“You know that’s assault on an officer, right?” Shane says, low and threatening as he leans forward, getting his face right in Daryl’s. There’s barely a breath between them. 

Beth worries her bottom lip as she watches Daryl’s mouth tighten. Shane thinks he’s intimidating him, but all he’s doing is pissing him off. 

“Nah, but it can be,” Daryl spits, his accent growing thick with his anger. He shoves Shane again, harder this time, but doesn’t follow, just puts some distance between them.

When Shane pushes back angrily, Rick is on his feet and putting himself between them. 

“Alright, alright, _enough,_ ” He says, voice gone from softly spoken family man to hard ass cop in an instant as he directs Shane backwards with a palm on his chest. 

“Maybe I should take you downtown?” Shane threatens over Rick’s shoulder, “You can say hi to your brother, I'm sure he'll be passed out in a cell by now.” 

Beth's forehead tightens into a frown. That isn't fair. She's sure Merle is propping up a bar somewhere, but he isn't out there looking for trouble (unless trouble is wearing a mini skirt and a push-up bra).

Her stomach ties itself in an angry knot. If Daryl doesn’t take a swing at Shane, she thinks she just might. 

Daryl scoffs. 

“I’d like to see you try,” He says, voice tight with defiance, chin raised like a challenge. 

Beth's eyes fly up to the side of his face.

_No. What is he doing?_

Is he really gonna get himself arrested over this? Just because Shane grabbed her arm? 

Apparently so because he's still staring at Shane, hard and unblinking; the only movement is the occasional flare of his nostrils.

Shane keeps staring back and the silence stretches. He’s looking down his crooked nose at Daryl, puffing his chest out so that it almost makes Daryl look small in comparison. _Almost._

Beth's stomach curls tighter with every passing second until she feels like she might throw up. If Daryl touches Shane again, and it looks like he’s going to, he looks like he’s going to hit him _hard_ , hard as he can. If he does that, she doesn’t think Rick will be able to stop Shane from arresting him. Wrong as Shane is, he’s still his partner. 

“Nobody’s goin’ downtown,” Rick’s voice cuts through the tension in the room and Beth feels the tightness in her body loosen a notch. 

"This is jus' a misunderstanin', everyone needs t’ calm down," He says steadily. 

He's looking at Daryl now, calm blue gaze attempting to intercept Daryl's icy stare. He sounds tired, tired of Shane’s hotheaded bullshit probably, if the fact that he’s not even trying to talk down his partner is anything to go by.

Daryl doesn’t look at Rick, just keeps his hard gaze locked on Shane’s. They’re like two dogs circling each other, both ready to rip the other’s throat out before backing down. 

Beth forgets how to breathe as the corner of Shane’s mouth twitches into something like a sneer and Daryl’s hands ball into fists at his sides. 

Her hand raises of its own accord and hovers behind Daryl’s arm. 

All of a sudden, a crackle of radio static fills the room, piercing through the tension like a gunshot. 

"Rick, are you there?" A voice asks from the handset on Rick’s shoulder.

Beth follows Rick’s hand as he takes it from Shane’s chest to grab the radio.

"Go ahead," He answers, without taking his eyes off of Daryl who’s still glaring at Shane.

"Um, Mr. Miller got brought in for another DUI an' he's causin' problems in holdin’," The voice explains. 

"What's he doin'?" Rick asks, still looking at Daryl but Beth can tell he's no longer really watching him.

"He keeps yellin' _attica attica,_ s'that s'posed to mean somethin'?" The voice asks and this time there's a pitch of desperation to it. 

Beth doesn't miss the heat leaving Shane's gaze as his attention shifts to the call. Daryl's brow remains set in a deep frown, but his fists start to slowly unfurl at his sides. The hand hovering behind his arm pulls back. 

"Alright, we're on our way," Rick says, a little too quickly perhaps, but Beth could kiss him for that as relief pours over her like a hot shower.

As though suddenly broken from his stupor, Shane blinks and turns his head to frown at Rick.

"That boy ain't ever gonna learn if you always come runnin' first sign of trouble.” 

Rick pulls his gaze from Daryl to Shane and Beth watches the tension leave his face as they slide back into a familiar argument.

"Listen, I don't want Mr. Miller gettin' the whole station riled up," He says with a grimace, "An' neither do _you._ " 

Shane concedes the point by meeting Rick’s knowing look with a huffed exhale.

For a moment, it's as though they've forgotten Beth and Daryl are there. She tilts her head to look at Daryl, his hardened stare rapidly cooling as his eyes dart back and forth between the two cops.

As though he can feel her eyes on the side of his face, Daryl turns his head then and gives her a sideways glance that sets her heart flying in her chest. She fills her lungs in an attempt to calm the thundering behind her ribs as their eyes lock. The last traces of anger disappear, but the heat remains as his eyes hold hers. 

Beth blinks, and then he's turning, pulling his gaze forward as Rick steps out from behind their table.

"We best be headin' back," Rick says to no one in particular as he dons his Sheriff hat.

Shane follows, ignoring Beth completely and giving Daryl another dirty look, but this time there’s no real heat in it. 

After giving Daryl a curt nod, which he doesn’t return, Rick’s eyes drift to Beth and linger. He looks like he wants to say something, but then thinks better of it. 

Beth smiles, and it’s a genuine smile because she knows Rick, and he doesn’t need to say anything for her to know what he’s not happy with how Shane’s acted. The guy’s a hotheaded jackass sometimes, but he’s still his partner.

“Have a good night,” She says, keeping her eyes on Rick and deliberately not looking at Shane. She hopes Mr. Miller throws up on him. 

“And you,” Rick says, tipping his hat at Beth before giving Daryl one last apologetic glance and then turning and following Shane out of the diner. 

And just like that they’re gone, leaving Beth alone with Daryl again. She stares at the door for a long moment, trying to calm her rabbiting heart as the spent adrenaline leaves her system. 

She’s slipped into a daze, still staring at the door but not really seeing it at all, when she feels rather than hears Daryl come to stand behind her. 

“Y'alright?” He rumbles, and she feels that too, vibrating up her spine.

She turns to face him.

“Why'd you do that?”

Daryl cocks his head down at her, they're so close now she can feel his chest expanding just a breath away from hers.

“He touched you,” Daryl frowns.

“Yeah, Daryl, but he's a cop, he-”

“Don't care if he's the goddamn _Pope_ ,” Daryl cuts her off, “If he touches you ‘gain I'll break his fuckin’ nose.” 

Beth's mouth snaps shut. He means it. There's a hardness to his voice that makes a shiver run down her spine, and at the same time causes her thighs to clench with a barely caged _want_. She’s never seen Daryl like this; angry, hotheaded, almost _possessive._

Seeing him all riled up like this, _for her_ , sets Beth’s skin aflame. 

Daryl's clenched jaw twitches as she shifts in front of him, shuffling on her feet as she tries not to squeeze her thighs together around the heat growing between them. She needs to calm down. She needs to _cool_ down. 

Blinking hard, Beth sucks in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. 

“Why do you even care?” She asks quietly.

With a brother like Merle, Daryl seems to know how to leave well enough alone. So why didn’t he? He must have known nothing would happen with Rick there. Was it because it was Shane? Or was it because it was her? She needs to know. 

He drops his gaze down and away, causing Beth’s heart to climb into her throat. 

He doesn't say anything, and the longer he doesn't the more she's sure of the fact that there’s something he’s _not saying._

And that’s why, she supposes, that when she feels a sudden urge to reach out and touch him; she doesn’t fight it. She lets her arms come up to circle around his middle and hug him. 

He stiffens in her arms as she rests her head against his chest, filling her nose with the musty smell of sweat and cigarettes. He stiffens for a moment and then all at once all that stiffness melts away. His shoulders slope and his hand comes up to cup her elbow, holding her back as he lets her hold him. 

His fingers wrap around her elbow like they did earlier, with a tenderness that’s worlds apart from Shane’s rough touch. Heat radiates from his palm and spreads through her entire body, until she’s warm and buzzing all over. 

She tips her head back to look at him and finds him looking down at her, with an expression that can only be described as _startled_. 

She could almost laugh at how faintly alarmed he looks. As though he doesn’t know what to do and it’s so sweet, and almost sad, that her heart _aches_. 

Pushing up on her tiptoes she presses her lips against his stubble cheek, but in that moment he flinches, jerking his head to the side and her lips slide to the corner of his mouth. 

She pulls back slowly, pressing her lips together to catch the taste of him on her mouth as a rush of heat flood through her like hot magma. 

Tilting her head to look at him, she keeps her arms wrapped around his chest. They're there now and she doesn't really want to move them, is enjoying the reassuring feeling of his chest expanding against hers. His hand is still cupping her elbow and he hasn't moved to push her away so he must not mind it either.

"Thank you," She whispers softly, eyes connecting with his for a hot minute before she has to pull them away, "You're always lookin’ out for me."

Daryl's jaw jerks from side to side restlessly like he wants to say something but the words won't cooperate. He swallows and she watches as his Adam's apple bobs in the middle of his thick neck. She sucks in a breath as she feels the urge to lean forward and lick it, to run her tongue from the hollow of his throat to the underside of his jaw and taste the smell that is permeating her senses. 

He’s not looking at her, but they're so close there's something about his forcefully averted gaze that makes her stomach clench into a tight ball. 

The way his jaw is working pulls Beth into some kind of trance. Tendons straining, cheekbones jutting; a layer of jangling nerves dancing over raw masculinity, making him appear so strong and yet so fragile at the same time.

Beth does squirm then, clenching her thighs together around the ache growing between them. Her hips brush his, and that's when she feels it: Daryl's cock, unmistakably hard and straining against his zipper. 

Her eyes fly up to connect with his, catches them pull wide before he turns his head and she’s watching the tips of his ears turn pink. 

He moves to pull away, but Beth's arms tighten around his waist and stop him.

Glancing down at her through the corner of his eye, he’s unable to meet her gaze as his face quickly drowns in panic. Panic and a whole host of other things Beth doesn’t think Daryl has any business feeling - knows he doesn’t, not on account of her at least. 

And when she sees them - the shame, the fear, the _confusion_ \- Beth feels another urge propelling her towards him, and it would seem that being so close to Daryl has lowered her inhibitions somewhat because she doesn’t fight it, she goes with it instead.

Pushing up on her tiptoes, this time Beth doesn't miss. This time her lips close over his, wet and trembling as she lets her eyes flutter shut. 

She's hauntingly aware of the fact that Daryl stops breathing as the rise and fall of his chest stills under her palms. She can feel his heart thundering beneath her fingertips as her own heart pounds behind her knuckles. 

For a moment neither of them breathes and Beth’s stomach rolls over as she begins to think she’s made a mistake she can’t come back from.

With her heartbeat racing in her ears, Beth starts to pull away only for Daryl's hand to come up, grab the back of her neck and stop her.

And then all she can feel is the heat of his mouth as he parts his lips beneath hers.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beth, Daryl, and a countertop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brace yourselves, I may have got a little carried away.

Daryl's lips are nothing like she imagined; surprisingly soft, and warm enough to make Beth's lips tingle. Their mouths move together, tentatively at first, but soon growing more feverish, as he licks his tongue between her lips and buries his thick fingers in the back of her ponytail.

She's climbing up his chest, momentum lifting her feet off the ground, and she might be embarrassed at the way she's quite literally _throwing herself at him_ , if it wasn't for the way his hand fists in the fabric at her back to catch her, and hold her against him, leaving her feet dangling in the air.

Her hips roll against his on the way up, trapping his erection between them as their bodies are pressed flush together.

The sound he makes is something else; a deep moan that she feels vibrate in her chest, and makes her nipples tighten into hard points beneath her shirt. 

She feels dizzy from the sounds he’s making, lightheaded from the way he’s hungrily sucking the air from her lungs with each kiss. But she doesn’t want to stop, can’t seem to get close enough as it is. Feels a primal kind of want that she doesn’t recognise. When his tongue pushes further into her mouth, she closes her lips around it and sucks. 

Hips shuddering, Daryl pulls back suddenly with a harsh grunt and Beth follows, chasing his mouth. A needy sound escapes her lips. Her eyes flutter open. She would be embarrassed at that too if it wasn’t for the way that Daryl’s eyes flicker back at her in response. As though he wants to pull that sound from her again, amongst others. 

" _Hold on_ ," He murmurs, gently lowering her to the ground. 

The voice that comes out of his mouth is so low and rough that Beth feels a sudden pang in her pussy like it's been slapped just knowing he’s as affected as she is. 

Taking huge, quick strides to the front door, Daryl pulls the bolt and flips the sign from open to closed.

Beth stares open mouthed, pussy _throbbing._

He turns around, and when their eyes catch his tongue comes out to run across his bottom lip, pink and swollen from where he’s been moving his mouth against hers.

"You allowed to do that?" Beth asks, stomach doing giddy somersaults as she watches him stalk back towards her.

It's a 24 hour diner. It _never_ closes. The dead could start walking and this diner would remain open, she's sure of it.

"Why don' we go in the back an' you can set me straight on exactly what I'm _allowed_ to do?" Daryl all but growls as he comes to stand in front of her. 

His fingers are thrumming at his sides like he wants to touch her again, eyes dropping to her lips like he wants to kiss her some more.

 _God,_ she has a long list of what Daryl Dixon is _allowed_ to do, starting with where he can put that smart mouth of his. 

But for a moment all she can do is stare at him as he stands there in front of her with his broad chest heaving and his darting eyes searching hers. Underneath his flushed cheeks he looks a little scared; scared of making the wrong move, or of disappointing her somehow. There’s a fragility underneath his physical prowess that pulls at something inside her, makes her think that maybe she’s the one that needs to be careful here; that maybe she needs to be careful _with him._

The corners of her mouth curl up into a small smile, and Beth holds her hand out for him to take.

He looks bewildered, awed even, as his eyes drop to her outstretched palm before bouncing back up to hers. His bright blue gaze pulses with heat as he reaches out and wraps his thick fingers around hers. 

Beth doesn’t miss the way that Daryl’s breath hitches, or the way that his hand trembles, when she laces her fingers with his and leads him backwards into the kitchen. 

As soon as they’ve passed through the swinging doors, Beth spins around, places a palm in the center of Daryl’s broad chest and pushes him against the wall. He’s not expecting it, by the little grunt of surprise he makes, and that’s probably why she’s able to unbalance him and send him stumbling backwards. She follows, grabbing his t-shirt with both hands and pushing up on her tiptoes to crash their mouths together again.

He wraps his big hands around her waist to pull her closer and this time he doesn’t hesitate before parting his lips beneath hers with a moan. She doesn't know what's come over her when she leans in, pressing him against the wall with her palms against his broad chest. He doesn’t seem to mind it, if anything it’s spurring him on as he slides his hands down the small of her back to cup her ass and pull her flush against him.

She enjoys the feel of hard muscle beneath her palms as she slides her hands up his chest and buries them in his hair, dragging her fingertips across his scalp to pull him even closer, as close as she can, and yet somehow it still isn’t close enough. 

Her hands fist in his hair as his thick fingers tighten around the pleats at the back of her skirt, curling into the space between her legs, teasingly close to where she desperately wants them to be. Her spine arches, entire body thrumming with need that she feels echoed back from his sawing chest. 

When their lips part on a gasp, his find the underside of her jaw and he starts mouthing his way across it, rough stubble dragging across her skin as he goes. 

She aims her little uneven pants towards the ceiling as he slowly descends to her bared throat. When his chapped lips graze her pulse point, Beth forgets how to breathe entirely. 

The way he's sucking on her neck, he's going to leave a mark. _Good._ She wants him to. She wants him to leave marks all over her, so that she'll see them tomorrow and know that this really happened. 

That this isn’t another one of her fantasies. That his hot mouth really is on her neck right now, licking her skin and sucking it between his teeth like he wants to memorise the taste. That his big hands really are roaming all over her body as though he's trying to explore every inch of her. 

She digs her nails in a little harder where they're clutching at the cradle of his shoulder, wanting to leave a mark of her own, so he might see the little crescent moons tomorrow and know that he was _hers_ , if only for tonight. 

He moans against her throat as though he likes it - as though maybe it feels good when she drags her nails across the nape of his neck. When she pulls him closer and seeks the skin beneath his shirt, trying to explore his body the way he's exploring hers. With a heated urgency that’s growing minute by minute, second by second. 

Suddenly, Beth feels his hands close around her waist and then she’s turning in midair. He’s lifting her up onto the countertop and bringing them face to face so that he can kiss her more fully. 

And he does. Bringing a hand up to cup the back of her neck, he covers her mouth with his and swallows the little moan she makes when he sets her down. He plucks kisses from her lips with escalating need as their bodies become further intertwined. Hand coming up to cup her jaw, his rough calluses stroke the skin still tingling from his mouth before he tangles his thick fingers into the loose curls at the nape of her neck.

She can feel the scruff on his chin as he buries his face in her throat and just _nuzzles her,_ making her ache all over until, suddenly - _crash! -_ she sends a stack of freshly cleaned frying pans tumbling off the counter with her elbow.

Her too-wide eyes watch them scatter across the kitchen floor with a loud, unending clatter before swinging her gaze up to Daryl.

"Oh _shoot,_ sorry Daryl!" She cringes, catching her bottom lip between her teeth.

He just stares back at her, eyes sinking to her bottom lip. It doesn't look as though the sound even _registered_ as he leans in, seemingly only concerned with reuniting his mouth with hers. 

"Beth, you can turn this room upside down an' I won't give a fuck if you keep lettin’ me kiss you," He murmurs, voice hoarse and hot against her lips before he pulls another kiss from them. 

If she _lets_ him? _Sweet Jesus._

Beth parts her knees, and he falls between them. Need pools at the base of her spine as he closes what little distance remains, and when their hips kiss, all hesitancy is gone.

All that remains is heat. 

He's between her legs, rubbing against her slow and deep like he's fucking her through their clothes. She moves with him, seeking the friction of his inseam against her already damp panties. 

Arousal ricochets between them, desperate and clumsy at first, but soon their bodies find a rhythm and start to move together. 

Beth rocks her hips up as he thrusts into the apex of her thighs and crashes their bodies together _just right._ She feels his dick twitch as his entire body shudders against her. 

" _Fuck_ ," He gasps against her lips. His voice is wrecked with desire, and Beth swallows it down as she claims his mouth again.

The feel of his unmistakably hard cock straining against his zipper between her parted thighs makes Beth feel a little bold.

"You wanna?" She asks breathlessly when they part on another gasp, lips only separating long enough to suck in some much needed oxygen before fusing together again, drawn to each other like magnets.

"Think you can feel how much I wanna fuck you," Daryl murmurs in her ear as he rolls his erection between her legs. 

She can. Beth's pussy twitches with each gravelly syllable, hot air searing her throat and hard denim dragging across her slit with the evidence of how much he wants to fuck her. 

"I want you to," She pants back, hooking a leg around his waist and pressing him closer, "I want you to fuck me. Here. _Now."_

"You serious?" Daryl's voice is a stuttered breath as he pulls back just enough to meet her gaze.

The eyes that connect with hers are hot flints; dark and pulsing with heat. Along with his flushed cheeks and heaving chest, it’s an image Beth never wants to forget for as long as she lives.

She nods, blinking up at him with heavy lidded eyes.

His hand comes up to cup her cheek and drag his thumb across her cheekbone. Lust blown pupils scan her eyes, her face, and something like disbelief is coming off him in waves. 

A soft moan escapes her kissed pink lips as her head rolls to the side and she leans into the comfort of his hot palm.

Daryl's eyelids flutter like they want to close and he makes a sound in the back of his throat, low and rumbling with need. Beth feels the sound of his desire dance across her clit as though his head were buried between her legs. Her eyes drop to his lips kissed swollen by her own and catch a flash of pink as his tongue flicks out to worry his bottom lip.

He’s all heat and nervousness as he buries his face in her throat once more and returns to mouthing rough kisses down her neck.

“Wanna touch you,” He rumbles hoarse and desperate against her skin.

Seems all that kissing has loosened his tongue. 

“Wanna get you off. Wanna know what turns you on,” He pants in her ear before pressing his lips to her pulse point. She wonders if he can feel her heartbeat speed up.

Her eyes fall closed as he peppers hot kisses across the cradle of her shoulder. 

“ _You_ do,” She says before she can stop herself, “Thinkin’ about you.” 

His lips still where they’re pressed against her collar bone. 

“Me?” He whispers incredulously, “You think about _me_?”

There’s enough doubt and disbelief in his voice to pull an answer from her throat, even when it suddenly feels bone-dry. 

“Yeah,” She says, and then adds for no reason other than because she wants him to know he’s someone worth thinking about, “ _All the time.”_

She feels his slow exhale against her fevered skin, “Shit, Beth, I had no idea.”

There’s a pause and she can almost hear him rolling the idea around in his head.

His hands start to move again before his lips, stroking down the curve of her hips. 

“What do you think about?” He asks, making her shiver as he slowly drags his nose up the side of her neck. 

It’s Beth’s turn to draw a long inhale and hold it. She can feel a flush heating up her cheeks and running down her neck, wonders if Daryl can feel it against his lips. Her entire body is thrumming with a heady mix of lust and nervous excitement, heart rattling in her chest and nerves jangling just below the surface. 

_Is she dreaming? Or is the subject of her fantasies really kissing her neck and asking her to say them out loud?_

_She couldn't possibly…_

_Could she?_

"Think ‘bout you kissin'' me," She blurts out.

_They've already done that, at least._

Hot air blasts across her skin as Daryl exhales hard and slow. He hums as his huge hands slide down the curve of her hips to her thighs. Beth leans in to the feel of his mouth vibrating against her neck and he rewards her by rolling the bulge in his jeans against her slit, causing her to gasp at the welcome pressure.

"An' touchin' me," She whispers on the next roll of his hips.

_Done that too._

Beth hears Daryl swallow hard with an audible click, hears him part his lips to run his tongue between them. She feels his hands slide down to cup the back of her knees and dip his fingers below the hem of her ridden-up skirt.

"What else?" He asks, voice all low and rough and thick with desire. 

_God,_ a fresh blush scalds her cheeks, her stomach is churning itself inside out, she feels in danger of passing out, but, _but…_ if he wants to know, he ought to. 

" _Fuckin'_ me."

The words spill from her lips like a confession, barely audible, but she knows he hears her when Daryl groans a string of profanities against her throat. 

_Haven't done that._

_Yet._

He shifts like he can't control his dick. Inching backwards, he rests his forehead against hers. She can feel the sweat on his brow against her hot skin, feels his breath sawing against her lips. 

“Ain't gonna _fuck_ you,” He mumbles and Beth thinks her heart actually stops.

“Oh,” She manages to respond, but she can’t conceal the disappointment in her voice.

Or her face, as her brow creases in confusion. Maybe it was wrong of her to just _assume_ that’s where this was headed. Maybe this was as far as he wanted to go, _with her,_ and now she’s gone and said _that._ Maybe-

“I mean, I ain't gonna _jus'_ fuck you, not like that,” Daryl interrupts her thoughts, leaning back to meet her eyes. 

_“Oh,”_ She blinks back at him, relief flooding through her so fast she feels a little dizzy.

“Wanna make you feel good, wanna make you come,” He murmurs, holding her gaze but only just as a flush blooms across his cheeks.

Beth can't speak, can only stare back at him, literally speechless, with lips fallen open around a sentence she can’t string together.

His tongue comes out to slowly wet his lips, eyes fallen to her open mouth, and then he leans in.

"S'at alright with you, sweetheart?" He murmurs in her ear, "S’at what you want?"

There’s a hint of teasing in his voice that pulls Beth from her stupor and when she feels his lips quirk where they’re brushing her earlobe, it sends hot vibrating electricity coursing through her veins. 

"More'n alright," She says, before turning to claim his mouth in a biting kiss.

He’s not expecting that, by the way his lips part on a gasp, and when she takes the opportunity to lick her tongue into his open mouth, he groans low and deep. 

Beth releases a soft moan of encouragement as Daryl’s hands slide up her thighs until his questing fingers find her panties. 

He follows the edge of the fabric to the apex of her thighs and then brings his hand between them to cup her mound in his palm. He curls his other hand around her hip to steady her as her hips rock forward into his touch. 

They both moan then and break apart as she rubs her center against his open palm, enjoying the hard heat of his hand through the thin cotton barrier. The grip on her hip twitches and tightens as he releases a shuddering breath against her lips, and his fingers curl into the damp fabric of her panties.

“Y’re so _wet_ ,” Daryl murmurs, voice thick with lust and confusion. 

There’s a beat and then something seems to click.

"S’ this all ‘cause a me?” He asks, rubbing his fingers back and forth experimentally.

Beth groans, hips jerking eagerly into his touch. 

“Yeah, Daryl, s’all for you,” She breathes against his mouth.

He plucks a long kiss from her lips and follows it with a smaller one as he pulls his fingers up to the hem of her panties and then slides them underneath.

“You been thinkin’ about me?” He whispers, voice strained as though that thought has him fast unravelling, as though the thought of her pussy being wet _for him_ is almost more than he can handle _._

With a barely there touch that has Beth shivering all over, Daryl strokes his fingers through her wiry curls to her slit and nudges a thick fingertip between her lips. Panting against his mouth, Beth’s hands clutch his biceps as a wave of arousal rolls through her.

“You been thinkin’ about me, here at work?” He asks, fingertip teasing her entrance.

It’s all she can do to nod quickly against his cheek, but that’s enough to make Daryl groan and push his finger inside her.

She moans brokenly and he responds by using his fingers to part her pussy lips and slide his finger deeper in. 

Pressing a kiss against the bolt of her jaw he wastes no time as he starts to move in and out of her, rolling his palm against her clit in a rhythm that builds in Beth’s pelvis like a storm. Her walls suddenly constrict around him when she feels a pulse pull at her clit and he rewards her by burying himself down to the knuckle. 

She might be embarrassed by how quickly her clit starts to throb against his palm if it wasn’t for the way that his dick twitches against her thigh with every pulse as though he’s getting off on this as much as she is. 

“ _More,_ ” She murmurs, practically _croaks,_ against his cheek, causing him to smother a groan into her neck. 

He doesn’t make her wait, working in another thick finger, and when he curls his digits inside her, Beth’s hands tighten where they’re clutching his biceps as another pulse cracks through her. 

She can feel every inch of his hands as Daryl places them on her, hands that work for a living, and right now he’s putting them to work on her.

His hands are rough; the pads of his fingers scratching like a cat's tongue, palm thick with calluses, knuckles covered with scars, and she can feel it all against the sensitive skin of her pussy. 

They’re _strong_ too. She can feel the strength of his muscles in each precise movement, in every measured flick of his wrist and every deliberate curl of his fingers. 

And with those strong, rough hands, he takes her apart.

The attention he’s paying to each tremble of her walls has her teetering on the brink of her release in no time at all. The pressure in her pelvis keeps climbing until she feels like she’s going to explode. 

And then suddenly she does - the pressure bursts and she comes in a gush, shuddering against his knuckles.

“Jesus, Beth, _fuck,_ ” Daryl groans against her temple like he’s the one that just climaxed as her walls flutter around his fingers.

She’s panting hard against his cheek, raw and reeling from the orgasm that’s rolling through her muscles, turning them to liquid, but when she glances up at Daryl he looks more gone than she is.

His face is deep red, pupils blown wide, breath sawing in and out of him, making his huge chest brush hers with each deep inhale. When it does, she feels that he’s trembling. 

Slowly, he slides his fingers out of her and her breath catches at the sight of her come glistening as it runs down his forearm. 

Daryl leans back, and the hand on her hip tightens as the one between her legs slides her panties to side, and he just _stares._

She swallows convulsively at the sight of his nostrils flaring on a laboured breath and her skin is on fire when she inhales and smells herself. Her thighs bounce nervously as the smell of her wet cunt surrounds them. 

That movement seems to grab Daryl’s attention, his wild eyes fly up to lock with hers and the heat in them makes her bare pussy clench, still flared and throbbing from where he fingered her. 

He leans in, kissing the bolt of her jaw softly before bringing his chapped lips to her earlobe.

“Christ, Beth, your pussy’s fuckin’ beautiful,” He murmurs, letting go of her panties and cupping her mound like he’s holding something precious. 

“ _Daryl,”_ She whispers, an embarrassed smile curling her lips. Nobody’s ever spoken to her like that and she’s not sure if she’s supposed to like it the way she does. 

“Felt fuckin’ beautiful on my fingers,” He carries on, thumb stroking her hip, whether to calm him or her she’s not certain, but she covers that hand with with hers and squeezes.

Daryl exhales sharply against her neck. 

“I want - _Christ,_ Beth, I wanna _-_ ” 

Stubble scratches her cheek as he rolls the words around in his mouth. Bites his lip as he swallows them down.

“Tell me,” She says thickly, clears her throat, wonders if he can feel the heat of her cheek against his.

“Wanna feel you come on my dick, wanna make you come again,” He chokes out.

Her breath hitches and he leans his forehead against hers.

“Can I fuck you now?” He asks, gravel and molasses voice stroking her swollen clit like a physical touch.

“God, _Daryl_ , yes, please Daryl, _please,_ ” She moans immediately, fingers tightening on his hand and his arm, pressing her damp panties against his palm in an effort to remove any uncertainty he has about how much she wants the same damn thing.

Hot air tickles her lips as he groans at that. 

"Don’t gotta beg me, girl,” He rumbles, voice coming out strained, “I oughtta be on my knees beggin’ you to let me inside you.” 

He shifts, taking his hand from between her legs to palm his cock through his jeans. He’s hard, so hard that he actually hisses when he touches himself, she can see his cock straining against his zipper. Beth can’t help the little moan that spills from her lips at the knowledge that he’s that hard _for her._ That he wants to fuck her so bad _it actually hurts._

Maybe that’s why she reaches out and grabs his belt, pulls the buckle loose and pops the button with surprisingly steady hands while he watches on. 

She’s barely pushed his jeans down an inch when his cock falls out to bob between them, all angry and red and _thick._

Daryl grunts, and reaches down to squeeze himself at the base so hard his knuckles turn white. 

Still stood between her thighs with apparently no desire to be any place else for even a second, he reaches into the back of his jeans and pulls out his wallet. She watches him fumble to get it open, feeling momentarily confused, until he retrieves a condom from the inside pocket and then tosses the open leather onto the countertop. 

Beth feels wave after wave of anticipation hit her as she watches him tear the little square packet open with his teeth. He's so hard he struggles with the rubber, grunting as he forces it over his swollen head. Her blood races in her ears as she watches him roll the latex down his length and grip the base of his cock.

She feels her heart hammering in her chest when his eyes fly up to catch hers, shimmering with uncertainty when they connect. She knows how that feels. This is something they can’t come back from. 

Her lips twitch and he leans in, covering her mouth with his and pushing his tongue between them as they curve into a smile. 

As he leans into the kiss, his cockhead nudges her swollen clit and pulls a moan from her mouth into his. 

They fall apart, and Beth watches as Daryl’s eyes drop like a stone to where he’s pulling her panties to the side and dragging his head down her come-covered slit.

She hears his breath become laboured when his cock strokes her swollen lips. Hears the whimper as he catches on her quivering hole. Can’t be sure if it came from him or from her because she’s coming apart too. Rapidly. 

“ _Daryl_ ,” She gasps as he teases her entrance slowly and her spine curves of its own volition.

“I got you,” He murmurs, grabbing her thigh and lifting it up, tilting her pussy towards him. 

She braces her palms on the counter top as his other hand comes to the small of her back and holds her as he starts to push inside her.

Her eyes flick up to his face and she watches his eyes grow wide as he watches himself disappear between her pink folds. 

" _Christ_ , girl, you're tight as fuck,” He hisses, sounding almost pained. Except for the look on his face; cheeks flushed and eyes so dark they look like they swallowed the sky. 

And _oh_ if that isn't the thing that burns her from the inside out. She thinks he could bring her to orgasm just by looking at her _like that,_ but he doesn't have to. 

She watches his eyelids flutter as he inches further in. 

"Y'alright?" He asks, voice strained like he’s anything but.

Beth nods slowly, doesn't quite have the ability to speak right now. 

Because the look on his face - eyes flickering, tongue caught between his teeth, totally enraptured - that look makes her walls spasm around him.

His eyes snap up to hers, blazing blue, and her walls clutch again, sucking him deeper.

He’s so thick that it burns when his cockhead finally pops through her entrance. But only for a second, and then the sting is replaced by a jolt of pleasure as his cock drags across the back of her clit. 

He lets out a shaky breath once he's fully inside, and doesn’t move except to surge forward and kiss her, sucking the steady stream of moans right out of her mouth. 

When he catches her lower lip between his teeth and draws it out, her hips rock forward, causing his cock to twitch and hit something deep inside her that makes her keen. 

That sound awakens something inside him. His eyes lock with hers and he starts to move. Slow at first and then he's rutting between her legs, pulling that sound from her again. And again. And _again._

He's giving her all he's got, and she's _taking it._ She's taking it, and she's giving it right back. She's meeting every thrust with a snap of her hips, squeezing his cock with her walls everytime he buries it inside her, and pressing him closer with her leg hooked around his waist.

She's wanted this for what feels like forever, and she's going to make the most of it. Every second, and every _inch._

"Fuck, _Beth,_ feels so good," He groans between harsh pants.

Each grunt and groan makes her pussy throb.

"Daryl, _oh my God,_ Daryl," She sings his name over and over as everything else in the world disappears and it's just them, and their bodies, talking in a language she doesn't understand. 

His thick, precise fingers are nothing compared to his hot, hard cock. A familiar pressure starts to build in her pelvis, but much faster this time, so fast it's a little overwhelming and she cries out, legs tightening around his middle just for something to hold on to. 

"Beth, _fuck_ , you feel so good," He nuzzles the cradle of her shoulder, peppers kisses across her jaw, "You gonna come?"

" _Yeah,_ ” She gasps, “I’m gonna, Daryl, I'm so close." 

She knows he’s close too when his fingertips dig into her skin, breath coming in shallow pants against her cheek as his hips rock back and forth in a rhythm that’s hard and fast and _unrelenting_. 

She soon feels herself teetering on the edge. Her clit is fat and swollen and when he fucks up into her with enough force to make their pubic bones kiss, sparks fly across her pelvis.

" _Daryl_ ," She chokes out, screwing her eyes shut as another orgasm rises inside her like a wave, washing away all coherent thought with it.

She arches backwards like a ragdoll and his hand on her back is the only thing stopping her from collapsing onto the countertop. 

“S’alright, I got you,” He hums against her hairline, soft voice a stark contrast to his hard cock as it plunges inside her with the next snap of her hips.

That tenderness is the thing that sends her hurtling over the edge, pussy clamping down around his dick to tight he can’t pull it back out.

Daryl grunts like an animal as his orgasm is torn out of him by her pulsing inner walls and she comes all over his dick.

“Oh fuck _, Beth,”_ He groans against her skin.

Her eyes peel open and catch his, bleeding blue as his hips keep rolling of their own accord, fucking them through their shared release as Beth’s walls tremble and he empties himself inside her, making her pussy feel full and hot.

It’s almost too much to bear when she feels a residual pulse ricochet across her clit. Then his hands tighten around her and he pulls her close as he shudders to a stop. 

A contented sigh pours out of Beth and onto Daryl's shoulder. Her nerves are shot, it’s entirely possible she can’t walk, and she’s going to be useless for at least an hour. But damn, she didn’t know it was possible to feel _this good_ as her blood fills places she didn’t know existed before tonight.

She doesn’t realise her thighs are shaking until Daryl’s hands slide down to stroke her trembling legs. He's still inside her, cock softening against her inner walls and their collective come pooling at the apex of her thighs. 

Her heart rate slowly returns to normal as the sound of their broken breathing fills the air and his huge palms smooth the last tremors from her thighs.

She hums when he presses a kiss to her forehead and pulls back just enough so that his cock falls out of her. 

Clenching her thighs around his absence she lifts her head to look at him and finds him watching her. When their eyes connect, her heart flutters in her chest. She’s always a little flustered when he looks at her, but this is something else entirely. 

The way he's looking at her now is enough to make her cunt ripple with aftershocks. Full of heat and longing, like he wants to fuck her, even though he just did. He’s looking at her like he wants to kiss her, and she hopes he does, but also like he wants to do more than that. Nobody has ever looked at her the way that he’s looking at her now; like he's looking right into her soul and he likes what he sees, like he’s really seeing her. 

Beth wishes she could capture this feeling and bottle it. 

Thumb caught between his teeth, Daryl shifts like he wants to say something, but isn't sure.

"What is it?" She asks, and the voice that comes out is thick enough to make her swallow. 

He notices, his eyes flicker for a moment, and she feels her cheeks grow hot. 

_Seriously? Even now?_

“You said before that you think about me,” He starts, his own face turning a dusky pink, "S'at why you're always blushin' around me?"

Beth eyes widen and her mouth falls open.

"Oh God, you noticed that?" She cringes.

Daryl’s mouth twitches, "Hard to miss."

"That's _mortifyin'_ ,” She says, looking away as on cue her face floods a deep crimson, “Oh jeez, Daryl, I'm so embarrassed." 

"Nah, don' be,” He murmurs, shaking his head, “Thought you were jus' shy or somethin'. Thought it was cute."

Beth flicks her gaze back to him, hopeful but not entirely convinced. 

He takes her chin between his thick fingers and tilts her face up. When she smells herself on his fingers she can’t help the little whimper that slips out.

"Still do," He says, almost nervously, tongue coming out to wet his lips as his eyes drop to her mouth.

"Yeah?" She asks, stomach doing somersaults and not caring what colour her face is, just praying he's going to kiss her again. 

"Uh huh," He nods and follows the momentum forward, covering her lips with his. 

“Meant what I said before,” He mumbles, “Didn't wanna jus’ fuck you. Wanna make you feel good.”

 _Wanna, not wanted._ Beth notes, excitement cracking through her like electricity. 

“S'at why you make me all those grilled cheese sandwiches?” She asks. 

Daryl stares at her blankly, “What?”

Her cheeks heat up, _damn it,_ and she ducks her gaze before forcing it back up to him.

“It always makes me feel good,” She shrugs and smiles, “When you make me grilled cheese.” 

Her heart is pounding under the intensity of his gaze as he continues to watch her in wary confusion.

“You've been makin’ me feel good for a while,” She adds, her voice coming out soft and shy under the honesty of her confession. It’s not a huge thing, but it could be. All that maybe and possibility suddenly feels just in reach. 

Daryl's tongue flicks out to slide across his bottom lip as his eyes hold hers and she watches as something clicks and realisation washes across his hot blue gaze. 

“Girl, I'll make you whatever the fuck you want, all you gotta do is ask,” He mutters, taking a step closer. 

Her knees part and he steps between them.

“Didn't know _that_ was on the menu,” She says, lips pulling to the side. 

Beth feels her mouth tingle like her whole face is about to burst into a grin, but before it can, he leans in and kisses her.

Maybe she doesn't need to bottle this feeling if he's planning to keep on kissing her like that. 

She doesn’t know where they go from here, but maybe figuring that out is the fun part. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Much as they'd like, Beth and Daryl can't stay in the kitchen forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *throws out unnecessary and ill advised fourth chapter*
> 
> THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A ONE SHOT!

Beth doesn't know how long they've been kissing for, with Daryl nestled between her thighs on the countertop, his thick fingers curled around her jaw and her waist. (Not to hold her to him, or to hold her steady, but just to _hold her_.) All she knows is that they're pulled apart by the sound of someone hammering on the front door.

" _Shit_ ," Beth whispers, her wide eyed gaze flaring up at Daryl.

She doesn't miss the way his eyes flare back when she curses, as though it catches him by surprise. Not an unwelcome one if the tongue flicking out to slowly wet his lips is anything to go by.

"Ignore it," He grunts, leaning in to nuzzle her forehead with his.

"What do I gotta do to get a nice girl like you to curse s'more?" He murmurs against her cheek before ducking his head to her neck and sealing his hot mouth over her pulse point.

Beth smiles so wide her flushed cheeks ache. 

"Daryl, you son'uvva bitch, open this damn door!" 

A frustrated groan crawls out of Daryl’s throat, against Beth’s neck, where his mouth is pressed firm enough that Beth feels the vibrations in her teeth. 

"You've gotta be kiddin’ me," He huffs, jaw tightening as he squeezes his eyes shut and inhales a deep breath.

"C'mon, asshole, I'm dyin' out here!" Merle's muffled caterwaul carries into the kitchen, punctuated by more hammering, this time hard enough to make the door rattle.

"Guess we can't ignore it," Beth whispers softly, biting down on her bottom lip. 

When Daryl's eyes snap open and connect with hers he looks _agonized_ , eyes bleeding blue and nostrils flaring as he empties his lungs.

A loud bang that sounds distinctly like Merle shouldering the front door in an attempt to break it down concedes Beth's point.

"Guess not," He mutters. 

His thick fingers curl around her waist like he doesn't want to let her go. Like he’s considering letting Merle break the damn door down if it means he gets to hold her a little longer. 

Her heart flutters because she feels the same way, staring back into his eyes and finding them so filled with longing, she feels like she could burst from the intensity of it. 

There's a beat and then he steps out from between her legs, leaving her naked cunt suddenly feeling cold and bare. Her knees snap closed and she squirms a little in her sticky wet panties as she watches him drag his jeans up with a scowl. 

When he turns back to her his face softens, scowl melting into a frown. His hands curl around her waist once more and he lifts her down from the counter top.

As her feet touch the ground she tilts her head up at him and offers a small smile.

His lips twitch, eyes dropping to her mouth for a moment before flicking back up.

"You ready?" He asks, voice raw enough to stroke a shiver up her spine and heat her cheeks.

She nods quickly, reaching out to take his hand and lace their fingers together. She tries to squash down a wave of embarrassment as his eyes track the blush across her blooming cheeks and his hand tightens around hers.

As they pass through the arch from the kitchen to the front of the diner, Beth feels the significance of what happened between them hit her like a ton of bricks, driving all the air from her lungs. She thinks that Daryl feels the weight of it too when she feels his arms tighten, muscles flexing as his shoulders hunch.

Nothing will ever be the same again. They crossed a line and they can’t go back, only forward now. It’s not _bad_ , like the adrenaline trickling into her bloodstream is telling her, it’s just… unknown. A wave of uncertainty threatens to swallow her whole and she’s glad to have Daryl’s hand to ground her.

The moment to let things sink in is short lived as Merle pummels the glass harder when he sees them.

Daryl’s fingers slip from hers as he releases her hand, muttering a string of curses as he makes his way over to the door.

She curls her fingers into the palm of her hand and finds it feels a little lonely without his to hold, already missing the hard heat of his calloused palm against hers. When it occurs to her that she misses something which maybe isn't truly hers to miss she shakes the thought away. 

"You try'na wake the whole damn town up?" Daryl snaps as he yanks the door open. 

"What took ya so long?" Merle gripes back as he pushes past his brother. 

"I'm gonna waste away if I don't eat somethin' soon, after all the energy I've spent tonight!" He huffs before collapsing into the nearest chair.

Daryl narrows his eyes at his brother, "No need to elaborate on that," He mutters, gaze flicking to Beth for a second before hardening back at Merle. 

"Boy, smell my fingers," Merle hoots, grabbing his brother in a headlock and shoving a hand in his face.

" _Jesus Christ_ ," Daryl chokes, pulling away.

"Aw, c'mon," The older Dixon smirks, "Ain't gonna kill ya, was a real nice girl, real clean."

"I'm sure she was," Daryl glares as a blush lights his cheeks. 

"Nothin' feels better'n a nice wet cunt, an' you'd know that if you ever got close enough to find out," Merle says, bringing his fingers to his nose and inhaling deeply. 

A flush runs up Beth's neck and she turns to fumble with the coffee pot, panties clinging to her swollen lower lips, still gaping from where Daryl was inside her. 

_Oh, he knows,_ She thinks, rolling her lips together as she swallows down a nervous laugh. 

"Watch your damn mouth," Daryl grumbles, and she doesn’t miss how strained his voice sounds. 

With her heart racing in her chest, Beth grabs three cups and the coffee pot before straightening up and turning around.

"So, you had a good night?" She asks brightly as she makes her way over to the table where Merle is slumped, eyelids fallen to half mast like he might drift off. 

Daryl looks up and his face softens when their eyes catch.

"I didn’ do too badly for myself, lemme tell you," Merle’s eyes snap open and his mouth pulls into a wide smile as Beth sets the cups down on the table and starts to fill them.

"Please don't," Daryl mutters under his breath.

Glancing up at him from a foot away, Beth’s cheeks grow round with the grin she’s holding back.His mouth quirks into a wry smile when their eyes catch. Their eyes hold, _linger,_ and fill with longing so fast Beth's breath flutters. He looks like he wants to touch her, like it pains him not to be touching her. Now that he has. Now that he _can._

Now that he knows she wants him to, as though he can feel the pull of her want for him like a physical force. 

“Couple’a skirts had a real good night on account of ol’ Merle,” Merle boasts, grabbing a coffee cup and bringing it up to his crooked mouth.

Beth swings her gaze over to Merle and raises her eyebrows.

“Don’t give me that look, girl,” Mere’s tongue strikes the back of his teeth, “Dixon’s are real good with their hands.” 

_Oh, I know._

Beth swallows hard as she feels her treacherous cheeks heat up.

“Watch your goddamn mouth,” Daryl chokes, “ _Jesus Christ.”_

“That’s what she said,” Merle smirks over his coffee, “I said, actually, darlin’, name’s Merle, Merle Dixon.” 

Beth’s eyes flick up to Daryl and sparkle with unsung laughter. He scoffs, shakes his head, but there’s no heat in it.

“You gonna behave if I go make some food?” Daryl asks, pinning Merle with a warning look.

Merle nods eagerly, tipping the rest of his coffee down his throat.

Daryl’s eyes flick to Beth before giving Merle a wary nod and stalking off towards the kitchen. 

Sitting down in the chair opposite, Beth refills Merle’s empty cup before setting the pot down between them.

“Do you think you’ll call her?” She asks, leaning her arms on the table and curling her hands around her elbows.

Merle slurps his coffee and frowns at her, “Who?”

“The _nice girl_ you met,” She rolls her eyes at him.

He huffs a laugh, shrugs his upper body. 

“Don’t,” She imitates his shrug. 

He swallows his coffee, meeting her persistent gaze head on. 

“Nah, probably not,” He says, lightness gone from his tone. 

“Oh,” She says quietly, stroking her arms almost like a comfort.

Merle takes another long draw of coffee.

“Jus’ havin’ a lil fun,” He says, setting his cup down, “Ain’t lookin’ for an ol’ lady.”

Beth’s mouth pulls to the side, “Why not?”

Merle drags a hand across his shaved head.

“We Dixon boys are good with our hands, but we ain’t so good with relationships,” He says, rubbing the back of his neck, “Didn’t exactly have the best role model.”

Beth’s forehead creases in confusion as her mouth tightens around a question.

But before she can ask it, the kitchen door swings open and Daryl emerges balancing three plates across his thick forearms. When his sharp eyes immediately zero in on Beth’s frown they snap to glare daggers at Merle before returning to Beth.

“Everythin’ alright?” He murmurs, sliding into the seat next to her and setting the plates down on the table. 

Beth’s eyes drop to the grilled cheese sandwich in front of her. The smell of fried bread fills her nose as a grin splits her face and she turns to beam up at Daryl.

“Everythin’s good,” She says, and she really means it, smiling a little wider as their eyes catch.

“Fuckin’ finally,” Merle grumbles around the half a sandwich he’s already crammed into his mouth.

Daryl stares back at her; mouth twitching like he wants to smile, gaze flickering like he wants to look away. Beth knows how that feels. Her own heart is in her throat, chest pulling so tight she can hardly breathe.

But he doesn’t look away. His eyes scan her face as her cheeks bloom with the blood that he’s sent coursing around her body with his proximity. Merle’s voice is in her ear, punctuated by the smack of his open mouthed chewing, but she can’t make out the words as Daryl’s tongue flicks out to wet his lips and she follows the movement. She watches his tongue disappear into his mouth and her thoughts tumble down a rabbit hole remembering where it’s been and what it can do. 

Her heel starts to tap, a thrum of excitement bordering on nervous that sets her thigh bouncing where it’s almost touching his. 

He swallows, concern flickering across his persistent gaze for a moment and then his hand comes to rest on her knee.

Beth sucks in a sharp breath as she feels the heat of his hot palm roll through her. His thick fingers dance across her skin, until it’s pebbling with arousal. The way her cunt aches in response he could have landed his hand between her legs instead of on her knee. 

She's never been this responsive to touch in her life, but under his palm she melts like butter, and he isn't even doing anything.

He senses the change, his pupils yawning in the middle of his hot blue gaze, hand sliding up, up, up, making her breath hitch. 

Under her skirt, his hand keeps riding up her thigh towards her centre. With each inch he climbs she feels heat grow at the apex of her thighs until she’s burning. 

When he curls his fingers around her upper thigh she feels a quickening inside. Her clit fills with blood and her walls grow slick with need. 

His finger dips into the crease of her thigh, grazing her panties, and the world drops dead when she feels a drip slowly tickle out from between her lower lips. 

She releases a shaky breath through her open mouth and Daryl’s lids sink to half mast, his face turning red like he’s been drinking, and she knows she’s not doing much better.

“Girl, what's got your face burning hotter'n bacon in a pan?” Merle’s voice cracks through the room. 

Daryl’s hand freezes and their heads snap to the other side of the table in unison.

Beth’s jaw flexes but no words come out of her open mouth while Merle narrows his eyes into icy slits before sliding them over to Daryl.

“Why’d you say you was closed again?” Merle asks, looking Daryl over, eyes catching on his mussed hair and flushed cheeks.

“I didn’t, ‘cause it’s none of y’ damn business,” Daryl snaps, his voice coming out thick enough to make Beth blush harder as she watches him do the same. 

Merle just stares for a beat before his mouth slowly pulls into a Cheshire cat smile and he gives Daryl a knowing look. 

“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kiddin me,” He mutters under his breath, bringing a hand up to rub his jaw, shoulders vibrating with unsung laughter.

Daryl scowls back at him, ears turning pink.

“What’s so fuckin’ funny?” 

Merle looks from Beth to Daryl and then hoots with laughter. 

“ _Really?”_ He asks, wiping tears from his eyes as his head ping pongs between their glowing faces.

“Jus’ promise me it wasn’ on the same table you make my sandwiches,” He wheezes, falling back on his chair and slapping the table before he erupts into hysterics.

  
  


Once Daryl has thrown Merle out, and slammed the door on the sound of his braying laughter echoing down the street, he turns and huffs a breath before raising his eyes and catching Beth's where she's stood watching him from across the room. 

He holds her gaze for a moment then angles his head down so that hair drops into his face and walks towards her. 

Beth's stomach pulls tight as he draws closer, her fingertips dragging across the fabric of her uniform as she suddenly finds she doesn't know what to do with her hands.

He comes to a stop in front of her, close enough to touch if she wants to, and he looks almost nervous.

"Sorry about him," He mutters, bringing his thumb up to catch between his teeth.

Beth shrugs, "It's Merle."

Daryl rolls his eyes, but continues to gnaw at the quick where his nail used to be.

Beth feels tense just looking at him.

"What is it?" She prompts gently. 

He looks at his shoes, bites his lip, before dragging his eyes up to meet hers with what seems like considerable effort.

"I wanna see you," He murmurs.

_Oh?_

She swallows down the ridiculous urge to jump like a dog that’s just been thrown a bone. 

_Don't get ahead of yourself, Beth._

Maybe Merle was right. Maybe Dixon's aren't good at relationships. Maybe Daryl's just looking to have a bit of fun, and nothing more than that.

_Except that's not Daryl._

She smooths her palms against her apron. 

"Well, you're gonna see me on Thursday," She says, one side of her mouth quirked. 

Daryl shakes his head, takes a step closer. 

"Wanna see you someplace that ain't here," He murmurs, his breath washing across Beth's jaw when he lifts his head up, his nostrils flaring as he breathes her in. 

_Oh_

Beth's heart rate speeds up, and she prays to God that she doesn't sway, that she doesn't topple forward and kiss him like she longs to because she's not sure he'd want that. Although she's not entirely sure he wouldn't, either.

Daryl's jaw is working side to side, his eyes flickering back at her, but there's something solid behind the nervousness now, something like intent. 

"Can I call you? Take you out sometime?" He asks, arm twitching at his side like he wants to bring his hand to his mouth, but he doesn't.

His darting eyes search hers like he's search for a cue he could live or die by.

" _Yes, please_ ," Beth answers immediately, her lips parting around a smile.

Daryl scoffs. 

"Should be me sayin' please," Her murmurs, stepping forward so that the toes of his boots nudge hers.

"So say it," She whispers, her smile growing wider as Daryl's hands come up to hover on her hips

"Wanna kiss you. _Please,"_ Daryl rumbles, sending shivers to the soles of her feet. 

"So _do_ it," She whispers, reaching forward and curling her fingers into the fabric of his shirt.

Daryl hums deep in his throat. There's a smile tugging at his mouth as her hands slide up his chest to the back of his neck and his hands on her hips tighten. 

He leans down to press his lips to hers in a soft caress. She puts her hand on his cheek to keep him there, the other tangling in his hair until his throat rumbles and his lips part. 

When they break apart he's smiling. Just a small soft curl of his lips, but every bit of it is for her. He reaches for her hand and when they meet, she grips his back and his smile widens. 

She looks up at him, eyes sparkling through her lashes, and she kisses him again because she _can_. 

There's no heat in it, just a press of lips and then gone, but this kiss makes her heart feel fit to bursting. 

Because Merle is wrong. Daryl can be good at whatever the hell he wants.

Her stomach lurches as he squeezes her hand in his and licks the taste of her off his lips. Rolls his lips together almost like he's savouring it.

He doesn’t need to. There’s plenty more where that came from. 

He could be _hers_ , and that thought doesn't feel as dangerous with morning pouring in through the windows. 

Warm light illuminates the side of his face, catching on his cheekbones and making his eyes glow. Or maybe it's something else that's causing them to sparkle back at her. 

All Beth knows is this: when he looks at her like that, anything feels possible.


	5. An Extra Slice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back at the diner, Beth and Merle have a little conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little drabble of life post-bang at the diner. This fell out of my head like a fever dream but without the smut. 
> 
> Warning: there is no smut!!! But brace yourself for gratuitous fluff [eyes emoji]

"So, you an' my brother, huh?" 

Resting his elbows on the counter, Merle's head tilts towards the kitchen where said brother is busy cleaning up after the dinner rush.

Beth nods quickly, lips curling into a smile as her cheeks heat up. _Goddamnit_.

Merle huffs a laugh and cracks a grin, "How long you two been carryin' on like that?"

"Well, uh, _that_ only just happened the other night," Beth admits, wringing her hands together nervously, suddenly feeling a little like she's getting grilled, "But I've been wantin' it to for a while. Not _that_ , I mean. But… _this._ "

Merle nods, and his eyes soften.

"My brother's been sweet on you for months, darlin', surprised it took you so long to notice." 

Her hands still and she blinks across the counter blankly, "Wait, what?"

Merle chuckles and the look he gives her is pure warmth.

"Boy makes a round trip across town at the crack of dawn straight off a fifteen hour shift three times a week, what, you think he was jus' _bored_?"

Beth's face is growing warmer by the second, "... _Oh_."

"It's a good thing, what you two got goin'," Merle says quickly, "Jus'... be careful with him, alright?" 

He holds her gaze for a beat and a little of the warmth leaves his sharp blue eyes as they lock with hers.

Beth lets the words sink in for a moment and tries to wrap her head around their meaning before she starts to nod earnestly. One side of Merle's mouth tugs up into a lopsided grin, eyes sparkling as the warmth floods back in.

"Sure seems happier," He says, leaning back.

That makes Beth smile so wide her cheeks ache. 

"Didn't I say he needed to get laid?" 

"You did," Beth mumbles, smile faltering and cheeks flaring afresh.

"Glad you were listenin' even if he wasn't."

"Listenin' to what?"

Daryl's voice at Beth's shoulder makes her damn near jump out of her skin.

" _Nothin'_ ," Beth and Merle chime in unison.

Daryl's eyes narrow as they travel back and forth between his brother and his girlfriend. His eyes settle on his brother with a question as his arm slides around Beth's waist.

"Sign says keep ya hands off th' waitress," Merle says, giving his brother a look of feigned shock.

"Fuck off," Daryl growls, tightening his arm around Beth's middle and drawing her into his chest.

Merle's sparkling gaze flick's to Beth.

"Might wanna work on his manners 'fore you take him home to yer folks."

Beth feels Daryl's entire body go ramrod straight at her back. 

"You grabbin' somethin' to eat before you head out for the night?" She changes the subject quickly.

Merle shakes his head.

"Nah, gonna grab a bite in town," He says rubbing his jaw and looking away, "Takin' that broad from last week out for hot wings, hopin' things get spicy." 

Daryl's chest shakes as he scoffs.

"You called her," Beth says, unable to contain her grin.

A shrug pulls at Merle's shoulders. 

"What's her name?" She asks eagerly.

"Sugar tits."

Beth rolls her eyes before fixing him with an expectant look. 

"Alright," He sighs, "Her name's Andrea. Don't go gettin' all excited now jus' 'cause I know her name."

Beth barely manages to contain her delighted squeak. 

"Okay. Have a nice time with _Andrea_ ," She beams.

"Said don't go gettin' excited," Merle grouses, "Ain't gonna be no double weddin' or nothin'."

Beth ignores the strangled sound that Daryl makes in her ear.

Merle's eyes expand at the phone in his hand,"Shit, is that the time? I better head out"

"You don’t wanna be late for your _date,_ " Beth grins.

"No, I don't," He says, pointedly narrowing his eyes at her as he pulls on his jacket. 

"You kids have fun now," Merle drawls and hops off his stool, "But not _too_ much fun. Don't do anythin' I wouldn't do," He wags a finger at Daryl. 

"That don' leave much," Daryl mutters. 

"Hey, I ain't the one who spends my evenin's _defilin'_ kitchen countertops," The older Dixon smirks.

Beth's face glows with the heat of a thousand suns and she thanks Jesus there are no customers in the diner right now. 

"We're not gonna- we don't- I mean, we _have_ , but it's not like- it's not a regular occurrence or anythin'," Beth splutters as she starts to hyperventilate. 

Daryl's big hands stroke her sides like someone trying to calm a spooked horse. 

"Don't wait up," Merle winks as he ducks out of the front door.

Turning in his arms, Beth tilts her head to look up at Daryl and he leans forward to press a soothing kiss to her hairline. Easy, like a habit.

She sighs, burying her face in this neck and taking deep greedy breaths of dried on sweat and dish soap. As the air fills her lungs all the tension pours out of her body and her nerves settle to the steady rhythm of his heart beating from his chest into hers.

After a moment she leans back and looks up at him again, but now there's a smile pulling at her lips.

"Y'alright?" He asks, searching her eyes and finding the answer before she opens her mouth.

"Yeah," She laughs breathlessly, it's really hard to stay worked up when he's got his arms around her like they could keep the whole world out.

Although if he keeps raking those hot blue eyes over her mouth like he wants to kiss the breath out of her she's going to get worked up in other ways. 

"S'pretty dead in here," Daryl murmurs, tightening his arms around her waist and bringing her flush against his broad chest.

"Wanna defile a countertop with me?" He rumbles, tilting his head back toward the kitchen, exposing his thick neck and the lurid pumping of his steady pulse.

Beth stares up at him as her face floods with a different kind of heat, and her lips part, but she can't find words or a breath to put behind them.

The corner of Daryl's mouth twitches and he huffs a noise that Beth recognises as a laugh, though most wouldn't.

"Jus' kiddin'. Do you want me to make you some grilled cheese?"

Beth's entire face lights up and she beams up at him excitedly. 

"Oh, yes _please,_ Daryl," She moans, "I swear to God, Daryl, it's like you can read my mind sometimes."

"Alright, s'jus' a sandwich," He mutters, ears glowing pink and jaw working as he fights not to look away. 

But it's not though, it's so much more than that. 

Beth feels heard, she feels understood, she feels _satisfied_ in ways that she's never known before. 

She can't tell him that though, so she just grins like an idiot, wraps her arms around his waist, and squeezes him a little tighter than is conducive to breathing. 

But when the arms around her tighten without hesitation and _squeeze back_ , she dares to hope that maybe he already knows. 


End file.
